


Mind Games

by your_taxidermy



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Abuse, Choking, M/M, Psychological Torture, Suggestive Themes, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 02:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14510034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_taxidermy/pseuds/your_taxidermy
Summary: They were even prettier when they were boring into Pratt’s soul, stealing the very life force out of him.





	Mind Games

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo i found a clip of Pratt begging Jacob not to kill him and if you think I would just ignore that and not write with it. You are dead wrong! <3 The way Pratt was like “yes, sir” actually killed me. So before i ramble on how much a drooling mess i am, please enjoy!! <3

Pratt was exhausted to put it simply, that bastard Jacob was keeping him awake, tormenting him, whispering beside his neck in the darkness of his blindfold. He was shivering with the  _ thought  _ of what Jacob would do. Jacob was thriving on that, by god his mind was racing with ideas. Pratt tried to hide his fear but the goosebumps on his arms were a dead giveaway. He was sobbing, sniffling and begging to stay alive. “Please, Jacob, don’t kill me, please! I am begging you.” 

 

“What did you call me, Peaches?” Jacob asked, running the tip his blade over his hands, pressing it into the spaces between his knuckles, not piercing the skin. Jacob didn’t like how long it took him to answer so he pressed it harder into the skin, watching his fingers try to escape. “Ahg, please,  _ sir!  _ I’m so sorry, please, it hurts!” Pratt was begging now, feeling so goddamn stupid over calling him by his name and not his proper title. 

 

Sir. 

 

“That’s better, Peaches. Good job. Now, if you behave, I won’t have to hurt you…” he said, picking the knife off his hand, running it over his arm, seeing him shaking under the razor-sharp blade. “But if you misbehave, like you’ve done… I will have to hurt you, and I don’t think you want that, do you?” 

 

“No, sir, I don’t!” 

 

Jacob gave him a deep chuckle, enjoying to see his little Peaches suffer. Jacob tucked the knife under Pratt’s sleeve, ripping the fabric with his knife. Pratt could only hear what Jacob was doing, which make it all the worse.  _ “Well,”  _ he began. 

 

“It’s obvious you want me to hurt you, Staci. If you didn’t want that, why would you disobey me, hm?” 

 

The tension between them was thick. Staci was bound to his usual chair, tied down with leather straps, like some wild animal that needed taming. Jacob paced around him, running the knife along his shoulders as he walked behind, pressing it into the fabric so Pratt could feel it on his skin. “I asked a question,” Jacob said flatly, stabbing the knife into the wood where Pratt’s arm rested, centimeters away from his wrist. “No, no, I don’t want you to hurt me, sir. Please.” Staci shook, feeling Jacob wiggle the knife back and forth, the blade touching his skin every second or two, Jacob changed it up to Staci didn’t get used to it. “I wish you could see yourself, Peaches. What a blubbering mess you are. You are weak.” 

 

“Yes, sir, I am… weak.” 

 

Jacob chuckled deeply, resting his chin on Pratt’s shoulder from behind, his warm breath sending freezing shivers down Pratt’s spine. Jacob was the hunter and Staci was his meat, his delicious meat, his hunted prey. Jacob’s beared brushed against Pratt’s ear and this alone was enough to make him whine. “What’s the matter, Peaches? Am I bothering you?” Jacob breathed into his ear, his lips brushing on his ear. Crying even more as he realized what a pathetic little soldier he was. “No, please… I mean - you aren’t!” 

 

“Think before you speak, Peaches.” Jacob hissed like a viper into his ear, Staci was convinced Jacob was going to bite him. 

 

Hard. 

 

Jacob removed his head from his meat’s shoulder and walked around him, heavy boots and jingling dog tags driving him fucking mad. “You know, Peaches…” 

 

“You’re normally so good for me. What happened? I would never have to remind you to address me properly… but now? Tsk, tsk, tsk.” 

 

Jacob was getting off to this. “I’m sorry, sir, I won’t forget it ever again.” Pratt exhaled, trying really hard to regain himself. Jacob ran the knife along his blindfold, Pratt ripped his face away and the cloth ripped slightly, just enough for him to see Jacob looking at him with those goddamn blue eyes. “Hold still, Peaches… now I have to fix this.” He untied the cloth and tied it so the ripped part was in the back. “Unless you want to see me, that is… Would you like that? It is a generous offer. But, remember to say  _ please sir _ .” 

 

He mocked him like a child. “Please, sir… I want to see you.” 

 

_ “Good boy.”  _ Jacob praised like a delicate father figure to his child. Pratt was still shaking, his face stained with tears and bruises. Covered in cuts, a bloodied lip and nose, Pratt looked so appealing to his wolf master. “Please don’t hurt me, please, I’m so sorry.” He was begging him, pulling at his restraints on his wrists, only causing himself so much more pain. Jacob stood behind him, tapping his fingers on the top of the chair, wiggling his way into the policeman’s mind. How he toyed with him, humming that goddamn song in his ear. 

 

It was getting difficult to see Jacob as the light in the room began to fade as Jacob switched off the lamps, his fear never seemed to die down. Still a crying, sniffling mess, he jerked his hands so hard he could feel intense pressure on his bones. He was trying to hard to be strong. 

 

Pratt was weak.  

 

Weak. 

 

Small. 

 

Defenseless 

 

“Stop your crying, Peaches. I haven’t even touched you and only your thoughts alone are scaring you? You’re pathetic.” 

 

“I know, sir.” 

 

Jacob sneered, stabbing the knife into the side of the chair, dangerously close to Pratt’s neck. He shuddered, searching for some light to see his companion. “Tell me, Peaches…” Jacob said lowly, growling like a wolf. “What do you think I’m going to do if you’re so afraid? Hm?” 

 

To be fair, Pratt didn’t know. He really didn’t. But he knew Jacob wouldn’t take that for an answer. “You’re going to hurt me, sir.” 

 

Jacob let out a deep chuckle. “No, no, I won’t hurt you, Peaches. Unless you give me a reason to hurt you, that is.” 

 

Jacob put his hands over Pratt’s eyes, the coldness of his hands almost startling him. “You’re shaking, Peaches,” he muttered, running his thumbs under Pratt’s cheekbones. The tender touch was enough to calm Pratt, his breathing going back to normal. “Pratt, if you were to be strong, I would not have to handle you in such a way. You understand this, don’t you?” 

 

Pratt nodded, licking his lips to add some moisture to them. “Mhmm? Use your words, Pratt.” 

 

“Yes...Yes sir, I do.” 

 

“Good.” Jacob removed his hands from the man’s eyes and walked to his bench, rattling things about, shaking water bottles and keys. His bright, vibrant eyes were so dark within the bunker, he had such pretty blue eyes. 

 

They were even prettier when they were boring into Pratt’s soul, stealing the very life force out of him. 

 

Jacob took everything from him. 

 

His freedom, Pratt followed him around like a lap dog. 

His sanity. 

His own mind. 

 

Jacob controlled his mind with that damn song. 

 

Pratt was a hungry dog. 

 

Hungry dogs are never loyal. 

 

Jacob knew that, so he would throw him meat and keep him somewhat happy. 

 

Jacob brought the water bottle to his lips, taking a heavy gulp, almost taunting Pratt with the very sound of the crackling bottle. 

 

“Would you like some water, Pratt?” Jacob asked, wiggling it in front of the cop’s face. 

 

“Please,” he groaned, his voice scratchy and weak. When he inhaled, it felt like his insides were set to flames. 

 

“Please what?” Jacob asked, shifting his weight around on his feet. 

 

“Please,  _ sir.”  _

 

Jacob smiled and rewarded him with the water. He held the bottle for him, carefully making sure he didn’t over drink and choke on it. 

 

This lured Pratt deeper into the wolf’s den. Jacob’s slight decency seemed like an act of God himself. 

 

Yes, yes. Giving a tortured man water was a holy thing do in the eyes of Pratt at this very moment. 

 

Jacob abused him, hurt him, all day and night. 

 

But the one time he did something remotely decent, Pratt took it and ran miles with it. 

 

He thought Jacob really cared for him. 

 

All because he gave him water.  “That’s  _ my _ Peaches…” Jacob cooed softly, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time. It was dark and Jacob could see the outline of his face, the fear still lingering in the air. 

 

Jacob was gazing into his soul, more than Pratt could see. More than he’d like to know. 

 

He pulled the water away and Pratt was so thankful, so much it was borderline disgusting. 

 

Pratt was disgusting. 

Loyal and disgustingly glued to Jacob. 

 

In truth, he’d like to be that leg strap on Jacob’s thigh. 

 

“T-thank you,” he breathed, feeling Jacob’s hand brush over his cheek and hair, he was still cringing so hard but he was so conflicted. 

 

Jacob was the most horrifying eye candy. 

 

“You’ve done so well, my pup. Soon enough you’ll be a wolf, won’t you?” 

 

Jacob leaned in dangerously close to Pratt’s lips, for they did not touch but Pratt was ready to lean in and kiss him. 

 

No. 

 

This would cause for the worst of punishment. 

 

Jacob’s hand slowly crept down to Pratt’s neck, rubbing his Adam's apple with the knuckle. 

 

He wrapped his hand around his throat and pressed deep, holding him tightly. “But if you ever disobey me again, you can rest easy knowing I won’t be as merciful to you. Do you understand?   
  


“Yes…-” Pratt began to say as his airway began to close under the pressure. 

 

“Sir…” 

**Author's Note:**

> This should be said that I DO NOT condone abusive relationships of ANY FORM!  
> I saw a bit of discourse on Tumblr with these two and don't want anyone thinking I support this kinda thing. Kinda fucked I have to say this


End file.
